


Precautions

by Trojie



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-06
Updated: 2010-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-10 23:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Do you trust me?'</p><p>'Never.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precautions

Merlin thinks Arthur is angry.

He thinks Arthur has every right to be. After all, Merlin lied. Merlin lied and snuck around and committed crime after crime after crime, and the fact that it was all for Arthur doesn't, _can't_ affect Arthur's judgement in such a matter, because Arthur must always lead by example.

The fact that Merlin is, was, has been his lover cannot come into it either. Things must change between them. Arthur must obey the law.

But Merlin's head is thrown back on Arthur's pillows, mouth open in a moan that's run dry, instead of severed from his neck and gasping in a basket. Merlin's barely able to move, tied to the bed by wrists and ankles with fiercely ripped pieces of sheet, rather than shackled by cold iron in a dungeon full of straw shining like spun gold in the light that ekes in from the tiny window.

It is the dark velvet night that Arthur punishes Merlin in, with hand and mouth and fingers, with dark shivers in his whispered voice, rather than the sharp light of dawn. In private, not in public.

They used to be slow and loving, or laughing and frantic, or angry and taking advantage of it. They used to be emotional. They used to _share_. But now Arthur is angry.

'Do you trust me?' Merlin asked, when his magic burst its way out, dropping the enemy sorceror where he stood on the riverbank, cowardly and salacious, watching them swim before making his move to kill. They were dripping wet, naked, and Merlin could feel the drops of water runnelling off his arm, his hand outstretched and the fire receding from fingernails and eyes as the sorceror - the other sorceror - fell to the ground.

'Do you trust me?' Merlin asks, before he let Arthur tie him, chain him, mouth him, fuck him.

Arthur pauses before setting the key down on the bureau or the remnants of the sheet on the laundry pile, or coiling the tail of the rope safely to one side.

'No,' he says, finally, but the lie is in his eyes for a second before he shuts them. 'Never.'


End file.
